


Bottled-Up

by TheRaven



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:19:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1477765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaven/pseuds/TheRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve knows it's wrong, but he can't help it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure I'm gonna add a second chapter to this. I love writing awkward first times, and there's no way I can resist this one. But anyway, hope you enjoy this little snippet of fic. It was from a prompt on Tumblr, and while I know this has been done before, I wanted to write it anyway. Happy reading!

He knows it's wrong.

He knows that if they were caught, terrible things could happen, and he knows that even if they're not caught, they'll be damned. There's no way to win, here. It would really be best if he just pretended nothing was wrong until the feelings went away.

But he doesn't, because it's Bucky, and he's helpless where Bucky is concerned. Instead, he feeds the feelings, twisting Bucky's every action into something more than just a friend looking out for his buddy. He thinks about everything he says to him, picking the words apart for any shred of deeper meaning, while he lays in bed at night in their shitty apartment, listening to Bucky's breathing in the other room through paper-thin walls.

The feelings have always been there, he suspects. They've always been close, for as long as Steve can remember. And he tells himself that anyone would develop feelings for Bucky, self-confident and dashing as he is. The fact that his own feelings are threatening to spill over into his interactions with Bucky is only natural, really.

Steve only admits to himself that he's in love with Bucky after they get an apartment together, when he sees him wander out of the bathroom in his underwear on a regular basis and sees that sleepy look on his face that makes him melt inside. He realizes then that he's hopelessly lost, that nothing is going to bring him back now, and it scares him.

It's not safe to love Bucky. The bars people like him go to, they're raided by police who beat the patrons and do horrible things to them when they arrest them, and people even suspected of being like them can have their lives ruined and even ended by the screaming public. They couldn't be happy together, not in the end, because every story like theirs ends in tragedy. Steve knows it like he knows his name. There are no happy endings here.

These are the things he tells himself, anyway.

And even if it was safe to love Bucky, why would he want Steve of all people? Ninety pounds soaking wet, asthmatic, fragile as glass, he's a freak of nature. No one wants him. Not girls, not guys. Nobody. Steve has mostly accepted this fact, and he tries not to let it bother him, but the thought that he's found someone who could make him happy and they probably don't like him back makes him gloomy.

Bucky notices.

“What's wrong?” he asks around his toothbrush one night as they get ready for bed.

“Nothing,” Steve replies, not looking at him. “Work is just slow.”

“I think it's a little more than that,” Bucky says, and Steve's blood runs cold.

Does he know? It seems like he might. But Steve isn't sure, so he plays dumb.

“Maybe I'm a little under the weather,” he says.

“Maybe,” Bucky agrees and spits into the sink. “But you know you can talk to me about anything, right? Anything that's bothering you?”

“Of course, Buck,” Steve says, guts twisting unpleasantly.

They don't speak of it again that night, but Bucky brings it up the next night, again while they're getting ready for bed. He asks the same question, and Steve gives the same answer, but Bucky isn't satisfied.

“Something's wrong,” he says. “I can tell. I know you, Stevie. I know when something's off.”

And something snaps. Steve looks up at him, so terrified he can barely speak, but he manages to gather his thoughts enough to stammer them into the stale air of the apartment.

“I think I'm in love with you,” he says. 

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him.

“I'm sorry,” Steve says immediately. “I know it's wrong, and I'm sorry I even brought it up, but you wanted to know, and I don't want to keep things from you, and I'm just really sorry, Bucky.”

Bucky looks at him, face unreadable.

“Do you want me to leave?” Steve aks quietly. “I can go if you—“

“No,” Bucky says softly. “No, it's okay, Stevie.”

Steve looks up at Bucky, uncomprehending.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I mean you don't have to go,” Bucky says, still in that same soft voice, like he's afraid if he isn't careful, Steve will bolt.

Bucky puts his toothbrush back in the holder and leaves the bathroom. After a minute, Steve realizes he was supposed to follow, and he finds Bucky sitting on the dingy sofa in the dingier main room of the apartment. Bucky motions him to sit, and Steve obeys numbly. Why hasn't he started screaming at him yet? Ordered him to leave? Done anything at all? This is all wrong.

“How long have you felt like this?” Bucky asks him in that same gentle voice.

“I don't know,” Steve replies honestly. “Since forever, I think.”

Bucky nods.

“And when you say you're in love with me...?”

“I mean I'm in love with you. Like I would be with a dame,” Steve says shakily.

“Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean?” Steve asks, startled.

“It means okay,” Bucky says with a shrug. “It's okay that you're in love with me.”

He smiles a little.

“In fact, it's more than okay,” he says.

Steve takes a moment to process this. More than okay? What is he getting at? It dawns on Steve just before Bucky speaks again, and he feels a strange warmth spread from his head down through his whole body.

“I—“ Bucky looks down. “That must have been hard for you to admit, because I'm having trouble saying what I want to right now, and I've got the easy part.”

“What do you want to say, Bucky?” Steve asks, barely audible.

“I, uh, want to say that I think I'm in love with you, too,” Bucky says finally.

“Oh.”

They don't look at each other for a long time. Steve's head is spinning with the revelation that Bucky wants him, Bucky doesn't hate him, Bucky is in love with him, too.

“You really mean it?” Steve asks a good ten minutes later.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, and when Steve glances at him, he's smiling. “Guess we're a couple of queers, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“But it doesn't matter so long as we're happy, right?”

Steve looks at Bucky again, and his expression is unlike anything Steve has seen before. There's an intensity and a desperation to it that scares him a little.

“I don't think it matters,” Steve says, and he's surprised to find that he means it honestly.

“Okay,” Bucky says.

Bucky reaches over to put a hand on the back of Steve's neck, and he pulls him into his lap. Steve is a little startled, but he complies, because it's Bucky, and he loves him, and he's wanted Bucky to touch him for years. Bucky looks him right in the eyes.

“If we're really gonna do this,” he says, “we're gonna do it, okay? No being a little punk and taking back what you said, and no telling me we shouldn't do this. Got it?”

“I got it,” Steve says, and then Bucky is kissing him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have their first time. Awkward sex ensues.

They stumble into Steve's bedroom, pawing awkwardly at each other. Steve doesn't have tits, but he does gasp when Bucky drags his thumb over his nipple. It's a lot different to making out with a woman, not the least because Bucky has stubble. They pull each others' clothes off in a near frenzy, knocking into things along the way to the bed, and when they're both naked, they stand there, looking at each other, for a good minute before either of them speaks.

“So,” Steve says. “We're really going to do this?”

“If you want to,” Bucky replies.

“You're bigger than I thought you would be,” Steve says, blushing scarlet.

“So are you,” Bucky says, and he blushes a little as well.

Neither move.

“How do you wanna do this?” Bucky says at last.

“I don't know,” Steve says. “I just want to, you know.”

Bucky takes the lead then, because if he leaves this up to Steve, they'll be standing there all night. He takes Steve's hand and gently pushes him onto the bed. Steve looks up at him eagerly, cock half-hard already, and Bucky barely conceals a laugh. Steve would be hurt at that, but he's too focused on the way Bucky's body looks in the low light, shadows shifting across his skin as he moves. It's beautiful.

Bucky just kisses him for awhile, learning the inside of his mouth and drawing little sounds out of Steve as his hands roam his body. Steve arches into every touch, gasping, and Bucky holds back for awhile to make sure the gasps don't turn into an asthma attack. When his breathing slows again, Bucky continues, and Steve wants to burst from the sensation of Bucky's hand on his cock.

“I think I know what I wanna do,” Bucky says, grinning.

He moves down Steve's body, sucking little bruises into his skin as he goes, and Steve muffles a moan with his fist. Bucky smirks against his hip and loosely fists Steve's dick in one hand. Steve's breathing grows ragged again, and he stops, waiting patiently, until his breathing slows. And then, Bucky puts his mouth on the head of Steve's cock, and Steve just about stops breathing altogether.

Bucky goes slow, has to go slow. Steve doesn't mind it, even if it is kind of maddening. Just having Bucky there, having him doing this for him, is enough for him. Bucky laves at the head of his dick, lapping up precome and making little satisfied noises every time Steve jerks under him. He licks along the underside of the shaft, then takes the head of Steve's dick into his mouth again and slowly, agonizingly inches further down the shaft while he fists it with one hand. He pauses every time Steve's breathing gets too heavy, patient as ever, and sinks onto his cock until the head hits the back of his throat and he almost gags.

That's all it takes, and Steve tries to warn him, he really does, but it happens too fast. He comes with a strangled curse, and Bucky is choking and laughing and spluttering come onto Steve's stomach. Bucky swallows, still coughing a little, and looks at the mess on Steve's stomach. Before Steve knows what he's doing, Bucky bends over him to lick the come off of him, and it's almost enough to get him hard again. Almost, because he's too exhausted at this point for much besides sleep, though he still wants to do something for Bucky.

“Can I do something for you, Buck?” he asks, unsure of how to phrase it.

“Don't worry about it, Stevie,” Bucky says gently. “I can take care of it. You just rest.”

“No, don't, I want to—I don't know,” Steve says, frustrated. “I wanna make you feel good, is what I mean. Please, let me do it.”

Bucky gives him a strange look, but the expression shifts into a smile quickly enough.

“Just tell me what you want to do to me,” he says. “I'll take care of the rest.”

It's as good as he's going to get right now, so Steve nods and props himself up on his elbows to watch Bucky, who's kneeling over him and biting his lip and taking his heavy cock into his hand. It amazes Steve that he's got Bucky here in front of him, naked and pleasuring himself, that he's got Bucky all to himself. He just watches for a moment, taken with the image of it, until Bucky grunts out a “Get talking, punk.”

“O—okay,” he stammers, then says the first thing that comes to mind. “I wanna draw you. Right now, just like you are. I wanna draw you with your dick in your hand, mouth red and swollen from sucking my cock. I wanna draw you a hundred different ways, Bucky. I want to draw your face when you come.”

Bucky's breathing is uneven now, and he's trembling ever so slightly. Steve licks his lips nervously and continues.

“And after I draw you, I want to take your cock in my mouth and suck you until you come down my throat,” he says. “And when you're ready, I want you to fuck me until I scream and everyone in the building knows what we're doing here.”

“No, you don't,” Bucky says with a laugh, pausing to look at him. “They'd kill us.”

“I don't care,” Steve babbles. “It would be worth it. It would be worth it just to know what it feels like to have you inside me.”

“Tell me more about what you want to do to me,” Bucky prompts, starting up again.

“I don't know. I want to do everything,” Steve says honestly. “I want to touch you, and I want you to touch me, and I want to be with you forever.”

To his surprise, this is what sends Bucky over the edge. Steve watches that perfect face go slack in ecstasy, wishing he had a sketchbook on him right now. He'll remember it, though, and he'll draw it later, capture it forever so he can look at it whenever he wants. Bucky cleans himself up with his discarded undershirt and grins at him before collapsing next to him on the bed.

“That was good,” he says into the pillow. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve replies. “Just don't hog the covers.”

“I won't,” Bucky promises.

He does hog the covers, but even though Steve wakes up naked and shivering in the middle of the night, he doesn't mind. He just nudges Bucky until he lets go of them and pulls them back over himself, and Bucky molds himself to Steve's back in his sleep. It's the most comfortable Steve has been in years, and when he falls back to sleep, it's the best rest he's gotten in even longer.


End file.
